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‘Well, I can have the lab run the tests again if you’d like me to. But I have to say, they were pretty conclusive. Until you told me about your history of attacks, I was thinking perhaps your changing hormone levels might have caused your collapse tonight.’
‘I can’t be pregnant. I’m thirty years old. I know all about contraception and how to use it. And I’ve been using it. I swear.’
‘I don’t doubt you have. As with anything in life, there’s always an element of chance.’
‘Look, there must be an error with the tests. Perhaps they’ve mixed up someone else’s results with mine. It happens all the time; I’ve read about it. I mean, one minute someone’s told they’re dying. The next minute, some poor sod who was told they were fine’s being buried. And the person who’s been blowing everything, thinking he has only months to live, is actually fitter than the proverbial butcher’s dog. For God’s sake, can you take this drip out of my arm!’ She tugged at the plastic tube.
‘I’d prefer it if you left it in a little while longer until we have your fluids up. Not just for your sake, but for the baby.’
‘I really can’t be pregnant. So, please, get me a release form so I can go home.’
‘I’d really like you to have a scan and then we can be 100 per cent certain one way or the other.’
‘No. No scans, no more tests and no more prodding and poking. Please, I just want to go home.’
Tears were in her eyes now and her breath was catching again. She wanted ‘normal’ back.
‘OK, come on, take a deep breath. Here, dry your eyes. I’ll go and get Nick.’ He offered her a tissue from a box on the cabinet. She took one and wiped her eyes as the doctor left the room.
She couldn’t be pregnant. She was careful. She’d always been careful. And Nicholas, he didn’t have the same chances of conception most men did. It was so unlikely.
Nicholas entered the room and smiled at her.
‘Hey, you OK?’ He put his arms around her.
‘I’m fine. I just want to get out of here. Please take me home.’ She buried her head in his chest, inhaling the familiar fragrance of his body.
‘I’ll organise a car. The police want to speak to us, but I’ll tell them to come to the house tomorrow. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night.’ He kissed the top of her head.
‘I’m sorry I collapsed on you.’ She wiped at her eyes and sat up to look at him.
‘That’s OK. It was a shock. I mean, I am kind of used to you passing out if you’ve been on the tequila. But after a couple of beers, I knew something was wrong. You’re made of sterner stuff than that.’
‘D’you think it was my father? You know, who attacked Mike?’ Freya asked him.
‘Is that what you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is that what made you have the anxiety attack? The thought of him being involved?’
‘There’s something I haven’t told you.’
‘Again? Is this about Jonny?’
‘No. It isn’t about Jonny.’
‘Go on.’
‘I got some hate mail in the post today. It was a letter, it just said the word “bitch”, nothing else.’
‘What?! Why didn’t you tell me this morning?’
‘I don’t know. I should have, but we’d just made up and…’
‘Freya, we need to talk to the police about this. Where is this note?’
‘It was in my handbag. The one I left at the casino.’
